You're the reason I love losing sleep
by motherstarch
Summary: Our stealthy assassin 007 meets the new quartermaster, shortly before he goes on his final mission. From bitter rivals to inseparable lovers, the two have many problems, but one thing in common: a new reason to live. So what happens to Q when 007 is gone for good? 00Q smut. Any reviews would help a ton! Thanks for the read!
1. Chapter 1

It had been approximately three weeks since they had heard from 007. Everyone at M16 saw the footage of Bond falling to his death after being shot by one of his own operatives, and deep down, every agent at M16 felt guilty for the loss. Surprisingly, none felt more guilty than the quartermaster, who was coincidentally the one who had known him the least. Or so it seemed.

Bond met Q about three months before 007 passed on, and their relationship was very rocky from the start. They met in an art gallery, M's orders, no questions. The bickering began the second they met: Bond thought that Q's work was irrelevant, and Q thought even less of Bond. But in that first moment, something happened that could not be undone.

007 was used to getting everything he wanted. Everything was done his way, and even M began to give in to Bond's demands. Every mission ran according to his plan, down to the fine details, and yes, the girls, too. He never had to ask, never had to beg or plead, because girls just threw themselves at him, and he humbly obliged to give them, or take from them, everything his heart desired, which of course, made the quartermaster very furious.

Why should Bond get women just because he's out in the field? Why was it just so easy for him, and difficult for Q? And why did he have to look so damn sexy while doing it? Bond knew the impact he had on these women, but he had no idea what kind of impact he had on the man who was always in his ear, always listening to every aspect of the mission, until it was complete. What was worse was the longer missions, taking weeks if not months, with countless women being shagged.

Q listened to every moan, every kiss, every lick, for three months solid, hardly seeing Bond enough to make it worthwhile. The images Q began developing were hard to forget when 007 came in to do his physical exam, shirtless, doing pushups in the M16 weight room. Or when Bond had to run on the treadmill. Or when he was being examined by the doctor. Or even when he was hitting on other agents, all practically throwing their panties at the fearless assassin. Never had their been an agent so angry, so jealous, and so hopelessly in love than the quartermaster.

But then, just as Q was learning how to deal with all this pent up…anger, he vanished. The agent was shot, and his body was lost. Nothing made Q more upset. He'd spent the past three months studying every move Bond made, for what? For him to get shot? For him to die? He knew every single habit, every move he did in bed, every thought that ran through his head. And now he was gone. Forever. Never coming back. And to think, the quartermaster pondered silently, I almost…loved him. I almost told him that I loved him.

And yes, there had been times when 007 came back from missions drunk, late at night, and Q was the only one in the office. Bond was a terrible drunk. He could handle a few drinks, but after almost half of a bottle of vodka, he was wasted, and telling the quartermaster everything about himself, something that Q thought a little suspicious of a secret agent.

"You know what's funny? It all doesn't mean anything anymore, Q, it really doesn't. The shots I fire, the girls…nothing. The only thing that keeps me from ending it all is these little bastards." Bond says, finishing off his fifth vodka martini, shaken, not stirred.

Q pondered it for a moment. Nothing, nothing about James Bond's life mattered to him. It mattered to Q. All of it. Every miniscule detail was the center of the quartermaster's world.

"Maybe you just need to find someone to make it count. You know, someone who makes life worth living." Q said, not pausing to consider the consequences.

"Oh really, Q? That's what I should do? Well you see, just a little while ago, I tried that. I did. I loved her Q. Vesper was my whole world. I almost quit the service for her. But she was a liar, and a traitor, and she died for me, but goddamn it, I could have saved her! I could have! But she wouldn't let me! She was everything!" Bond screamed so loudly that if anyone else was in the M16 building, they could have certainly heard him. "Damn kid…what do you know?"

"Christ, Bond, I know a lot more than you think!" Q began, stammering at first, yet still staying strong. "I've read your files. Every single one. I've asked M about you, and all the other agents as well. And none of them knew the things I was looking for. So I did some of my own research. And I listened to every move you've made for the past three months. Every single move. Every girl you've fucked. Every night you've stayed up drinking and wishing you were dead. I was here, in this office, wishing that I could be with you, and make it better. Wishing that I could be the one to make it count for you. Because losing you after all this would shatter everything that my life has become."

The silence was deafening. The quartermaster wiped away a single tear from his eyes, and began typing on his computer, when Bond stood up.

"You've never…you never mentioned this. Any of this. Why? Why keep it a secret? Why make me wish I was dead for months when I could have been with you?"

Bond's lips were on the quartermaster's faster than anyone would ever think possible. Their tongues chased each other, as Bond straddled his quartermaster in his desk chair. Q's hands were demanding, prying down his back to reach his rear, and grab it firmly. 007 became demanding as well, abandoning Q's lips to kiss down his neck, and caress his face.

The assassin's hands made quick work of the quartermaster's button down shirt, sliding it off with his jumper. Bond removed his shirt as well, drawing a loud gasp out of Q, on account of the numerous scars that worked their way across 007's chiseled abs. Bond slid out of the quartermaster's hold, down to the floor, where he began to unbutton his trousers.

"I know you've been listening to every…encounter I've had over the past few months, but believe me, there are still a few tricks you don't know about." Bond whispered with a grin. And at that, the assassin promptly traced his tongue along the length of Q's erection, which was rapidly growing harder and harder with every touch.

Bond swirled his tongue around the tip, and felt Q draw in a short breath. 007 looked up at Q with a dazed smirk, and continued about his work, while reaching down to undo his own trousers. He stroked in rhythm with his sucking, as Q's heart rate increased rapidly.

"Bond…hnng…oh, right there, Bond! Right there! Oh sir!" Q shouted as he came in 007's mouth, with the assassin swallowing every single drop of it. Bond immediately abandoned the quartermaster to finish himself off, when he was oh so rudely interrupted.

"I believe I can help with that." Q smiled down at Bond, as he pulled him up from his knees, and sprawled him out across the desk. The quartermaster quickly climbed on top of him, and worked his hand down to Bond, who was very close.

"I need you to say it." Bond stammered out through labored breaths. He was almost there, and Q knew he had total control of 007's finishing.

"Maybe I'll make you wait. You know, 007 shouldn't get everything he wants." Q almost began to laugh, but the sight of Bond's erection in his hand stopped him right in his tracks.

"Q, I want to come for you. All over you. But you have to make me." Bond grunted, trying to hold out as long as he could. The quartermaster's hands moved even faster, sliding up and down 007.

"You have to follow my orders. No questions, agent." Q stated. He tried to sound assertive, but it came out desperate and greedy. Q wanted Bond to come more than Bond did.

"Okay, I'll try. But hurry." Bond squealed. "Oh…Q…that's the spot. I'm about to…"

"Come for me, agent. All over me. Right now." Q said in a sigh, almost a whisper. And just like that, 007 was riding the best orgasm of his life, better than any Vesper had caused. Or any other woman, for that matter. Q really knew what he was doing. Or maybe he just got lucky that time.

M was definitely startled when she walked into the M16 building early the next day to find Bond and Q curled up on his desk, naked, and asleep. But when the two promised that it wouldn't interfere with their work, M agreed to let the couple continue on their…business. And things went on like that, until Bond went on his last mission, and never came back.

Q took off work for a whole week after that, and several other agents sent food, and flowers, and cards to their shared apartment. Q only got out of bed to make more tea. Him being in bed in the first place was a little ironic: it wasn't like he had slept since the accident.


	2. Chapter 2

Things carried on like that for a while: Q hating every aspect of his life, blaming himself, and hardly doing anything at work. M couldn't do anything about it, and she needed a quartermaster who could function even when he didn't want to. He took one more week off, with the threat of being fired hanging over his head.

It was really late on a Thursday night, more like early on a Friday morning, when Q decided to get out of bed to take a bath, and hoping it would allow him to sleep. The quartermaster turned on the water in the bathtub, and poured in the soap, watching it fill up to the brim. He turned the water off, and stripped out of his clothes to get in the water. Remembering the unopened bottle of gin in the kitchen, Q threw a towel around his waist and hastened to the dinette. He opened the pantry and scoured through the shelves, seeing the bottle in the very back and pulling it out very carefully.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything. I thought you'd surely be asleep at this time of night. " Bond stated as he threw his coat on the rack and placed his keys to their apartment on the table beside the door.

"You aren't, I mean, you are, I mean why the fuck didn't you call me James?" Q screamed as tears formed in his eyes, and trickled down his face. "We thought, I thought you were dead. Dead. Never coming home. Ever. My James. Dead. And where were you?"

"Some island. Somewhere. Hell if I know." Bond murmured as he attempted to take the gin from Q's hand and pour it in a glass, but Q refused. The quartermaster unscrewed the top, and drank straight from the bottle, guzzling almost half of it in one go.

"Oh sure, James, some island. Was their alcohol on the island? Huh? How about girls? I'm sure there were dozens of girls on that island, half naked, tan all over, long dark hair flowing in the breeze. How many of them did you fuck when you were busy being dead, James? Half a dozen? More?" Q stopped yelling only briefly, just for another gulp of the gin. "How was the vacation, might I ask?"

"Pretty damn swell, actually. There were people there that would fuck me without bickering for half the night first. And they didn't give a damn if I was drunk. Besides, you needed a break from me. M said I was interfering with your work."

"You are my work, goddamnit. Making sure you don't die is my job. And for the past few weeks, I thought I failed. But I wasn't the one who fucked up, James. I didn't pretend to be dead, though God knows if you didn't come back sooner, I would have been."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're the only reason I'm alive. And when I thought that it was my fault that you were dead, I wished I was instead. The thought of you never coming home was killing me, none of which matters now that you're standing here in our living room, cut up to pieces, with fresh hickeys on your neck. " Q stopped, to wipe his eyes again. "And I thought you loved me. I truly did. But then you didn't even call to tell me you were alive. And then you played hookie on a beach with beautiful women, while I sat here…it's not fair. I loved you. And now I just don't know." Q shouted, as he placed the empty bottle of gin on the counter, and locked himself in the bathroom.

Q dropped the towel on the tile floor, and got in the bath, now cold. He muttered a slient thanks to Bond for ruining yet another aspect of his life, and then he submerged his head beneath the water. There was a loud crash, and Q popped his head back up from the bubbles. The door was in small pieces scattered across the tile, and Bond was standing in the doorway, shirtless, and slightly worked up thanks to the door.

"Sorry about the door. I just…I love you. I know I don't show it, and I know that I don't act like it, especially on missions, but truly Q, you mean everything to me. And I mean everything. Now if you don't mind, you're going to fuck me in the bathtub now. We do have a lot of time to make up for." Bond said with a smile, as he dropped his pants and climbed in the bath behind Q, straddling him from behind. James grabbed a washcloth and began to wash Q's chest, starting up at the shoulders, and stroking all the way down to Q's dick, which grew in the assassin's hands, as Bond's erection was pinned to the quartermaster's back. Bond kissed his jaw, and Q sighed, not being able to stay mad at the spy for very long at all.

"Oh how I've missed this." Bond sighed. "You know, I've never gotten off as hard as I do when I'm being shagged by you."

"Oh I know. And you were right about one thing. I am going to fuck the hell out of you tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

There were no words to what describe what it felt like to have James Bond's huge erection rubbing up against him, Q decided as 007 was nibbling on his ear. The quartermaster considered himself to have a vast knowledge of vocabulary, what with graduating from Oxford with his doctorate at age 20. But what perplexed him the most is why at that very moment, it felt like Bond had never left. Like nothing had ever happened.

At that moment, Bond pulled Q around in the tub to face him, mainly because James wanted a better view of Q's huge cock. Weeks and weeks of waiting to come home to Q, to fall asleep by his side, to remember what it felt like to feel loved. Q successfully interrupted Bond's thought as their lips crashed together, Bond playfully tugging at Q's lower lip. Q's hands immediately wandered to his erection, but Bond beat him to it as he stroked both of them, side by side. Bond's lips felt like fire on Q's skin and he knew he could never get enough of this feeling.

The quartermaster trembled with sensation as Bond continued to explore every aching inch of him. But Q realized he was distracted from his purpose: fucking Bond's brains out. Q slicked his fingers and grabbed Bond's ass, the ass that Q had fantasized about from the start, and began to push not one, but two fingers inside of it, as Bond tightened around him. James sighed in his ear, and moaned "Oh sir" at a barely audible level, which did wonders for Q.

Q slid another finger in, and then another, but Bond couldn't take it. "Just fuck me already, Q. Do it now. Now."

"Tell me you want it. And why. Be specific, double o." Q pleaded, his hot breath tingling on Bond's moist skin.

"Q, I want, no, I need you inside me. I need to feel your huge cock inside of me. I need you to make me come. Please Q. Fuck me." Bond implored desperately. Q could hardly wait any longer. He pushed himself all the way inside of bond, all the way up to the shaft.

"Double. Oh. Seven." Q spoke each word with a moan as he found himself caught up in that perplexed state when he realized he couldn't properly describe what he was feeling. Q lost the ability to speak properly, to form sentences.

"Q, move!" Bond begged, the alarm in his voice enough to wake Q from his reverie. Q thrusted inside of the assassin, slowly at first, but quickly picked up the pace. The quartermaster's hands began to wander down Bond's chest, to wrap around his cock.

"Oh double oh, sir! Hnnnng." Q said as he moaned in the assassin's ear, causing Bond to nearly lose it. Q automatically picked up the pace.

"Q, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna...ohhhh." Bond grunted as he came in his quartermaster's hand, which made Q thrust even harder inside of 007. Q came, and Bond grew very tight around him.

"I love you so much, double o. I mean it. You can't ever leave."

"But then when will we ever have an excuse to have fabulous bathtub make up sex?" Bond inquired, with a smug smirk that Q kissed off his face.

"I'm sure we'll find another reason. Now it's time for welcome home sex."

Needless to say the two were very late to work the next morning, and M was very displeased, despite 007's return.


End file.
